


So close feels so afar

by draconianApathy



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Self-Doubt, all characters are sympathetic, negative thinking, self deprecation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 00:50:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20939567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draconianApathy/pseuds/draconianApathy
Summary: Thomas is having trouble with his content, it’s gone on for so long that the sides themselves are starting to overwork so much they get overly stressed. Roman has a thought. A bad myriad of thoughts.





	So close feels so afar

**Author's Note:**

> Before you read, let me warn you that this is written in second person from Roman’s point of view. Also this was inspired by a post from draw-your-perfect-world on tumblr.  
Pardon me for breaking your hearts, but the opportunity was too good to be passed up.  
Hope you enjoy!

_ ❝ My heart is twisted, heavy, wrong. It’s like it knows I don’t belong._

_The world is big, lovely to be. And yet, there is no place for me. ❞_

It wasn’t the first time for you, was it?

« I don’t know, guys … I think we should just discard this whole video. »

The heavy feeling on your chest as you realized that, in the long run, your contribution didn’t matter anyway, that your motivation was starting to fade away, letting the hopelessness take its place instead.

That everything you did or tried to do didn’t matter or was useless, in any case.

You tried to speak, and _god_ all those eyes on you, the attention you once sought now felt like the unbearable weight of a thousand people’s judgment. You felt uneasy in front of the four people you knew and that knew you best.

When Thomas sighed and looked away, no longer paying attention to your words, you began to stagger as you tried to rescue the pieces of your confidence that had started to inevitably break and fall into the pit of your chest, pushing and pulling you towards the heavy void.

Your voice died down and your argument lost its meaning along with its importance.

« Great. This was a complete and utter failure. » Logan sank down faster than any other day. You wondered what had happened to his problem-solving nature and his constant willingness to help in critic situations.

You believed he was … _better _at this than you. In fact, you had no idea why you even bothered to give your own input on the topic.

Well, there was always this urge to prove yourself in the eyes of Thomas you’d been having for quite a while, maybe even too long, so much that you grew accustomed to it.

Maybe the problem with that was that, unlike Logan, you _felt_. You thought that was what was wrong with you all along.

Sure, Patton felt too, but he had dealt with that for such a long time that he knew how to handle it and how to still be reasonable through his thinking process.

Virgil, despite having to manage some of the worst feelings, was also cautious thanks to them, analyzing every possible outcome.

And you? You had your passion. Sure, that was a big part for Thomas’s interests, but beyond that?

You felt.

You felt … like something wasn’t right.

Because when Logan disappeared, leaving a somewhat irritated expression as the last image of him, you blamed yourself.

When Virgil shrank in his hoodie and shook his head before sinking down, you blamed yourself.

And when Patton excused himself with a pained look on his face, you blamed yourself yet again.

You grimaced and ignored the knot forming in your throat.

« I’m sorry. » an apology that felt as useful as your ability to solve the situation that same day.

The blaming didn’t stop when you sank down before you could hear Thomas’s response.

Did you even want to hear it?

You traced the little drawings you had carved on your door years earlier, refusing to get into a room that seemed so foreign; did “Creativity” even fit you anymore? You couldn’t remember the last time someone didn’t shoot down one of your unreachable ideas.

Like a thunder in the middle of a quiet evening, a memory appeared on your mind and flashed before your eyes: it had happened little after Virgil had fully joined your part of the mindscape. You had agreed that, in any circumstance and for any issue, you would’ve been there for each other. Always.

You went to Logan first: as we already mentioned before, problem-solving, right?  
Wrong. Or, at least, in that particular moment.

You were met with a terribly stressed logical side, that you were pretty sure was trying very hard to keep the “logical” part as he paced around his room almost literally shaking with nervousness.

« Not a good time, Roman. » was all you heard when you opened his door with caution. Before you could justify your visit, he excused himself and went back to look like the same messy state his room was in.

Patton was your second choice, but how much of an appropriate idea could it possibly be, when you saw him lying on his bed feeling even worse than you?  
Your selfless nature rushed over your body and you ended up comforting him instead of trying to open up on your own feelings.

Why did it always have to end up like this? Why couldn’t you just talk for once? Patton would have returned all the favors you gave him, you were sure, then _why _was it so difficult to admit you felt sick of yourself?

You closed the door of his room behind yourself, your heartbeat increasing. You were almost there. But you just couldn’t find it in yourself to worsen Patton’s already precarious condition with useless musings that would have only broken his heart.

No, you were completely wrong. There was nothing to be concerned about, the only problem was Thomas’s enormous lack of content and you had to shove away whatever problem you had.

Now didn’t that feel absolutely horrible to think that, Roman? There was no escaping it.

While trying to understand why you were doing this to yourself, you came across Virgil’s door.

Your hand hovered over the handle. One twist and it would’ve been it.

You backed away and decided against it. If Logan and Patton were already feeling horrendous, who knows what you might have encountered.

You looked to your left and your eyes met the dark sides’ rooms.

And you wondered, just for a split second, you reflected on that _thing_. Something you were so afraid to name but that came into your mind so often you almost believed it.

It had started in the imagination, when Remus playfully once insulted you and you hadn’t found the will to deny anything.

Then, while by yourself, you started being more critical of your own ideas and works, you sat for hours with a blank stare coming up with nothing but blatant banalities.

Eventually, you slipped up. That one game night, when you agreed when someone called you an idiot. You _knew _they didn’t mean it, but you still felt like you needed to point out that yes, you thought that too, deeply and every single painful moment of your existence.

It was the way Virgil called that. 

Self-deprecating.

He said it was his job and Patton insisted both of you should have stopped saying terrible things about yourselves.

Neither of you did.

That term stuck with you and you weren’t able not to wonder if _perhaps _there was a possibility you could identify with it.

And when the other came, right then, with you staring at the dark sides aisle, that feeling of wrongness increased to the point you couldn’t bear staying in the “light” sides corridor anymore.

In a matter of seconds you rushed over to the door of _their _common room.

When he opened up, expression neutral but just that slight bit surprised, Deceit raised his eyebrows. « Well? » 

« Self-doubt. » there it was. 

« What? » 

« There’s been a mistake. » you tried again, you couldn’t follow your breathing pace anymore. « We need to switch places. »

« Switch- I’m not following you. »

« I am self-doubt.»

« Huh? »

« You’re self preservance. »

« I’m flattered and all by this enchanting game of words, but I really think you should get some rest. Did Remus hit your head again? I told him to refrain from that. »

You shook your head visibly and a heavy sensation rose in your chest. Your shaky hands gently pushed him back and you let yourself into the room. « You don’t understand. »

Your eyes searched for one thing only. One _person_ only.

Remus had propped himself up on his elbows, previously lying on the couch in the, you believed, most normal position you had ever seen him.

You approached him, all the eyes were on you just like moments before, and you were sure you were also metaphorically reconnecting with his dark nature. Or was it really dark? Didn’t you make that up?

While Remus’s face showed veiled concern, you sat on the floor in front of the armrest. He sat up and looked down on your bleak self, an eyebrow slightly raised.

With your chin buried in your crossed arms on the armrest, you felt the urge to break down to anyone that would just finally, _finally _and simply listen.

And you didn’t even know where to start.

« You were right. » Deceit cautiously came close as you spoke. You noticed him, with the corner of your eye, take a seat on a chair next to you, leaning toward the scene. « I’m just like you. Not worlds apart, nowhere on opposite spectrums. »

Remus shook his head. « What are you talking about? » he whispered, more like a reprimand than a question.

You couldn’t help but insist, your eyes started to burn and you realized you were blinking back tears. « You know what I mean. »

Oh, but when did anyone, actually? So gone and lost, so miserable you refrained from ever believing in the others’ understanding.

« It just took me longer to come to terms with it. Too long. And now I’ve messed it up because it’s too late to fix this, to fix _me_. »

« Ro- »

« _No!_ » you buried your face in your arms, nose pressing on soft material. Deep inside, you knew you did that only to suppress the fact that you were on the verge of crying, of showing yourself weak and incapable to get back up on your own. « I am not Creativity! » but you knew hiding it didn’t have a meaning anymore.

Your head shot back up and you stared at your brother with a tear-stained face. « You are. More than me. »

« You’re saying I should replace you? » Remus’s voice sounded offended. No, almost … hurt.

You nodded, holding your breath to refrain the flood of seemingly nonsensical words from flowing out of your mouth. Or, at least, you tried to do that.

« It’s that- » you shuddered. « I haven’t been productive in forever, and you’re always here having different ideas every single day. »

« My ideas are- »

« It’s obvious you’re better at this than I am. » you looked down and allowed one terrible thought in your mind. You believed, clouded by your own insecurities, that maybe he should have taken your place. « I should just stay here with you. »

« Don’t say that. » Remus got up, his voice a mixture of mortification and annoyance. As he made his way to his room, you couldn’t have known how the thought actually completed his sentence. _Don’t get my hopes up_.

You slumped back from the armrest and lowered your head so that you couldn’t notice Deceit finally standing in front of you and offering you a hand to get back on your feet.

You looked up.

« I know everyone tells you to be wary of me, but can you trust me this once at least? »

You took his hand.

In a matter of seconds, both of you were sitting on the couch, trying to sort out the thoughts that were piling up in your head.

« I don’t think I belong with them. » Deceit had asked you to give voice to your troubles. « I’ve been the least useful and now Thomas is barely creating content or having ideas. I should be the confident one, I should be comforting him while all I do is ditch everything that comes to my mind. »

« And how does that make you feel? »

« Worthless. » you immediately blurted out. « Futile. Stupid. A waste of space. » the words kept coming in an overflowing self-deprecating chaos. « And the others see it, too. »

Deceit gave you a questioning look and you immediately felt like you said something wrong. « You haven’t confronted them about this? »

« It’s unimportant. It’s simply a fact. They’re all too stressed over the issue Thomas is having. »

« They’re? You’re not including yourself, why? »

« How can I be stressed over something when I’m doing nothing for it? »

The look came again, but this time you felt like he was trying to scan your soul by solely staring in your eyes. You didn’t know how much time had passed before he spoke again, but you could have sworn that, for a moment, nothing else around you existed.

« Roman, have you ever thought that you feeling this way might be the cause of Thomas not being productive? »

This time, the confused expression landed on your face. How could that be? No, definitely not. That was not the case. He probably meant that they should get rid of him since he was causing so much trouble, he-

« You’ve already seen how our behaviour can affect him drastically. If you feel like that, you might be preventing yourself from using your powers fully, thinking it’s useless to even try, and thus you’re limiting yourself. »

« … And in doing so I’m limiting Thomas. »

Deceit nodded with the same energy of a person that finally got their point across, the relief and satisfaction of someone that was able to make their interlocutor understand an important topic after hundreds of tries at explaining.

« You _are_ a terrible liar, and I can’t believe they haven’t realized this yet, but I can’t also change the fact that you’re an astounding actor. » he sighed, but that line left a sad smile on your lips.

« I’m a man of multiple talents. »

« Also, you don’t _have to_ belong anywhere, Roman. Having you here, on a rough time for Thomas, though, I don’t believe it would be ideal. » his gaze had fallen to the floor before his voice turned lower. « We’re all trying to look out for him, you know. »

That was when your look turned softer and you understood. You started wondering things that weren’t meant to be brought up just yet, but that might have been troubling him for a while.

As you were looking for the right thing to say, Deceit gestured for you to follow him to the door he then opened as soon as he was close enough. Out of it, the corridor to the others’ and your own rooms.

« Go and tell them. You might spare us some more agonizing days before they figure it out on their own. »

One step out of the room, and you didn’t even get the chance to thank him. The door closed behind yourself so quickly you almost believed you had dreamt the entire conversation.

With no time to process it all at once, another figure poke out of a door and pulled you into yet another dialogue.

« Ro? » Virgil rubbed at his eyes sleepily. « What are you doing over there? » there was no accusing undertone, just genuine curiosity. Then again, it might have been the sleepiness, you told yourself.

You approached him. « Just venting. »

« To Deceit? » still no complaining.

« He seemed to be the only one available. »

Virgil nodded, then you could have sworn you had seen a faint nostalgic smile curve his lips. « Good choice. »

« Huh- »

« Why didn’t you come to me, again? »

« You were sleeping. »

His mouth, this time, twisted into something more somber. « Roman,» he called, lifting up his gaze. « When I said you could come to me when you needed it, I meant I could make an exception on executing you if you were to wake me up. »

And you didn’t know if it was for Deceit’s comfort earlier, for Virgil’s softer voice or for the general hopefulness you finally regained after seeing a flicker of light coming from the end of the tunnel of your insecurities, but you found yourself with your arms wrapped around his chest.

« Oof- alright. » he patted your shoulders a couple of times. « Come on, big guy, let’s get the others. I woke up from a three-hour nap and apparently all my problems haven’t been solved by some kind of deity yet, so I think we deserve a fucking break. »

You allowed yourself to smile and, this time, you meant it.

« We truly do. »


End file.
